


Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)

by SkinnyPlease



Category: Phandom
Genre: AU, Chris and PJ, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, M/M, The Fantastic Foursome - Freeform, circus AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinnyPlease/pseuds/SkinnyPlease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Phil Lester was five he had been obsessed with the circus (or the one where Dan and Phil both are static trapeze performers and they don't each other until they do).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First phanfiction (hooray?). Not sure what to say besides that. Please be nice. I am actually involved in the circus so that was the main reason for writing this AU! Hopefully you like it.

Ever since Phil Lester was five he had been obsessed with the circus. Everything about it, from the flashing lights, to the acrobats, he could never get enough of it. His grandfather was passionate about it as well and took Phil to shows all over the country when he could. For his seventh birthday, Phil got juggling balls and within weeks could juggle. Not many people understood this obsession. As Phil became older, the less and less friends he had. Not the he minded. He had plenty of fun with his grandfather and working on his own.

He worked on his juggling everyday just so when his grandfather visited he would always get that special grin and laugh that his grandfather produced when he was proud.

By the time he was fourteen, he had outgrown juggling. Phil started attending an aerial arts class and fell in love with the static trapeze. It was all fairly simple he supposed. Static trapeze, after all, was just a bar with two thick ropes on either end. But to Phil, he saw it as magical, something he could bend and twist to his own according. He was in control.

He used to invite his grandfather to his practices and show him all the ways you could twist and turn into positions that were nothing short of beautiful. He loved being able to glance over to the corner of the room where his grandfather always stood and see nothing but adoration on the man’s face. Phil’s grandfather was the most important person in Phil’s life for a very long time.

Good things don’t last forever, when Phil hit sixteen, his grandfather had a stroke, was rushed to the hospital.

He didn’t make it.

So, Phil threw himself even more into static trapeze. After the loss of his grandfather, he dropped off of the social bandwagon completely. No longer was he studious, now Phil's head was constantly filled with new ideas, new tricks, new routines, music that would go well with it, everything now revolved around circus. He spent most of his time out of school figuring out routines, working out, or hiding from his parents, who had started to fall apart. Maybe Phil did a little too.

Sometimes, he swore he could see his grandfather in the corner of the gym where Phil practiced, like he always used to, proud sparkle in his eyes and a large smile on stretched across his face. But he wasn’t ever really there. Maybe that hurt more than anything else did. Phil had lost his anchor, now he was lost at sea.

Phil dived in further into this obsession once his instructor had nothing else to teach him, he worked even more then, researching new tricks, trying out new ones he had developed, but it wasn't enough, Phil was thirsty for knowledge.  Trapeze was like a drug and he needed more, and slowly, Phil was running out of it.

When Phil finally graduated (barely), he headed to the National Centre for Circus in London, where he studied for a few years before he headed off to find a job. His parents were divorced by now and he hadn't spoken to either of them since he had left for the National Centre. Phil headed out of his comfort zone, hoping to find a place where he felt he belonged.  

Phil was not poor, considering that his parents were both very wealthy and had been adding money to his bank account since he was little. Phil just thought it was about time to perform. 

Hope came in the form of  20 year old PJ Liguori, whose parents owned the 'Liguori Circus'. It wasn't a very big name yet, but PJ seemed confident that someday soon, it would be bigger than even Cirque de Solei. Phil doubted that, but didn't say anything. PJ was very kind to him and Phil had an offer from him before he had even shown him any skills. Of course, Phil accepted and that was the start of it all. 

* * *

Within a few weeks, Phil’s routine was complete. They were set to tour a few cities and Phil still hadn't met any of his fellow performers. But his routine was almost set, he was due to show the Liguori family tomorrow, or risk getting kicked out of the show. All he knew was that the family was a long line of tightrope walkers, and PJ was due to show Phil some of his skills. The two men had grown close over the past few weeks and Phil was happy to have a friend after not having one for a very long time. It was one of those rare friendships, the ones that develop in weeks rather than months and Phil and PJ just clicked together, so within a few weeks, they were already become best friends. Not that either of them had a very big selection of friends to qualified as their ‘best’.

On one occasion, PJ had gotten drunk and Phil had had to drag him off a table before he started singing 'What a Wonderful World' to a crowded bar. PJ was definitely a wild drunk. However, Phil had no excuses or the time he got drunk with PJ. Let’s just say that pink, frilly underwear might have been worn and they might have sung the Dora the Explorer theme song to a very crowded bar. Not that there's any proof of those events or that the boys will admit to anything that happened.

Since their friendship was born, they’d moved in together. Not into an apartment, into a trailer that was few minutes from the main tent. PJ figured it would be easier for Phil to rehearse and PJ had to be around there a lot anyway, so it was decided.

It was nice trailer by many standards, a room for PJ, a room for Phil, room for a TV, couch, desk for Pj’s work, and a few storage cabinets, as well as a bathroom that wasn’t too crappy. All in all, it wasn’t the worst living situation in the world, plus it was convenient for both of them, so what more could they really ask for.

"It's a showcase tomorrow, I think," PJ says casually as him and Phil play Go Fish. 

"Have any ones?" Phil asks, "And what do you mean a showcase?" 

"Go fish," PJ says with a smirk, he might be winning, "Any threes? Tomorrow, when you present your routine, I think all the performers are showing up to show theirs as well. Like auditions." 

"Ugh, how do you know what all my cards are?" Phil groans, handing over his threes, "Any sevens? And does that mean that I'll finally be able to meet them?"

"Go fish," PJ pouts while drawing another card, "Any jacks? I think so, that's what mom and dad have been saying anyway. Hopefully. I haven't even met everyone yet, so hopefully tomorrow I will be able to. I'm supposed to become manager of this circus one day. I wish they'd involve me more." 

"Go fish!" Phil says excitedly, "Any aces? But I thought you were voting tomorrow for the acts?" 

"Yeah, actually, good job," PJ says handing over his ace, "Any eights? And yeah, but I wish I was involved more, I just want to be prepared I guess." 

"Here. Any nines?" Phil asks, "I'm sure you'll be perfectly well off once you get the position as manager, don't worry, peej, it's a long ways off anyway" 

"No nines, any queens?" Pj asks, shuffling his cards around, "Thanks Phil, hopefully though. Excited about tomorrow though, I think we'll have a lot of talented people, hard part will be choosing which ones were taking." 

"Speaking of talented people," Phil says, glancing at the clock, "It's time for this one to go to sleep, I have to preform tomorrow." 

PJ rolls his eyes, "Phil you practice all the time, not to mention you have advantage of being my best friend, so your kind of a shoo in." 

"Still, would be nice to be rested." 

"Fine, you're just going to bed because I'm beating your ass at Go Fish and you know it." PJ taunts 

"Maybe, but next time around, I'll be the one kicking yours."

"Night, Phil."

"Night, PJ." 

* * *

The next morning is full of morning breath and coffee. It swirls away like the leaves outside the small trailer that the two share. PJ greets the day with a smile. Phil greets it with a groan and a plea for 5 more minutes, which just makes PJ laugh.

They are both dressed with brushed teeth by eleven and that’s good enough. PJ almost chokes with laughter when he sees Phil’s costume. Its skin tight and black, with splashes of gold, blue, and a rather washed out green. Phil can try and ignore the facts, but the costume is really ugly, and he knows it.  

“You’re just jealous that you could never pull this thing off.” Phil retorts to PJ’s unspoken insult, before he heads out of the trailer.

PJ just laughs his ass off.

Phil reaches the tent, which is huge with a flying trapeze rig taking up half of it and carries the smell of oranges and rotten bananas. He makes small talk with PJ’s parents for a few minutes before PJ arrives, his face still red from laughter, but he suppresses it before greeting his mom and dad.

“Well, Phil, I think we’ll be starting the auditions now, so if you’ll just go sit in the stands that would great.” Ms. Liguori says

PJ presses clothing to Phil’s chest before Phil leaves.

“You’re sweat shirt and sweat pants, so you don’t have to be a disgrace this whole day.” He says

Phil rolls his eyes but mutters a quiet “thank you” anyway.

A few people are littered across the stands; no doubt they are performers trying to make it. Phil chooses the kindest looking one, a boy with brown hair styled very similar to Phil’s and wide brown eyes, and sits a few paces away from him. The guy is leaning forwards, weight on his elbows that are resting on his knees. He doesn’t look very nervous, just kind of bored. The guy spares him a glance, eyeing Phil up, but makes no attempt at conversation.

The first name to be called is “Jordan Addams”, a dirty blond haired girl who seems to work magic with her contortion. Her body bends in ways that make Phil cringe.

The names continue from there on. “Paige Darlwery” does a stunning acro act complete with flips and handsprings and “Jackson Fitzgerald” is a strong man with very, very large arms that might turn Phil on a little.

Then, the name “Daniel Howell” is called and the boy next to Phil stands up. He takes a deep breath before heading down the main stage and makes his way over to the static trapeze, which is set in the right of the tent. So, another aerialist, more importantly, another static trapeze artist, that makes Phil’s stomach erupt with excitement and nerves. He’s never really talked to another static trapeze aerialist except when he was younger and met them after shows with his grandfather or his instructor.

Howell doesn’t appear to be wearing a costume, just a pair of black leggings and black tank top. Phil wonders if he wears black all the time.

Howell seems to gather up his confidence before the music starts. It’s sharp and soft and he’s definitely got Phil’s attention now. Howell starts to dance around the bar, grace so apparent in his form. He follows the music’s beat before finally approaching the bar, doing a pull-over and landing in a catcher’s hang. He seems to be relaxed now, simply content in his element.

He twists and turns and does drops that Phil has never even heard of before finishing in a meat hook before releasing and posing, one arm pushing the bar away from his face with his other arm swept across his body as he bows, sweat dripping from his form but a wicked smile on his face. Grace is definitely Howell’s strong suit, his whole routine is very elegant and his music timed perfectly, pointed toes and long sweeps of his legs and arms. Phil would be lying if he said he wasn’t entranced by him. Grace is something Phil lacks greatly, where Howell’s movements are soft and controlled, Phil’s would be more direct, angry, in a way.  

Phil feels a little dizzy when he starts clapping, but he can’t help it, Howell was moving around so gracefully and drops so sharp that his eyes had quite a hard time following him. Howell’s body…his routine…everything about it was stunning. Phil has to remind himself to close his mouth that was left open by the jaw dropping quadruple wrapped roll down that Howell had managed. And the Liguori’s clap as well, PJ’s sending Phil a wide eyed, but enthusiastic, glance back at Phil, who just shakes his head in disbelief.

Howell returns to his seat as the next name is called.

Phil doesn’t exactly mean to, but he gaps at Howell anyway.

“Wow…I just…that was incredible.” He finally manages out.

Howell turns towards his slightly, “Um, thank you.”

A few more names are called; most of the acts are amazing and absolutely gorgeous, a few are lacking and kind of just stupid, but Phil would hate to have to pick between them.

“So, what circus art do you do?” Howell asks

“Phillip Lester.” Ms. Liguori calls before the question is answered.

“I guess you’ll see now.” Phil says to Howell, slipping out of his sweats before he makes his way down to the stage.

Phil’s stomach is churning and he takes a few deep breaths, locking eyes with PJ when he passes, who gives his a reassuring smile.

‘It’s alright, you’re alright’, Phil reassures himself, ‘everything is alright, you can do this, you know this routine, you’ve done it for weeks’.

He takes his position by the bar, casting his eyes downwards, arms crossed across his chest, legs tight together; his beginning pose.

The music starts. It’s low and rough, the way Phil tried to make his act, Phil knows he can’t pull off an elegant act, not like Howell, but he knows he can be fierce. The second the music hits his part, he springs to life, he Russian roll-ups his way to the bar, slowly finding himself lost in the music. A dramatic flair there, a small drop, his muscle memory guides him through the motions, the twists and turns of the static, the meat hook, handstand, dolphin, amazon, he spins and pulls and stretches his way into his final pose. He finishes with the bar pushed away with one hand, the other he uses to deepen his bow, the standard closing. He steadies himself before heading back up the stands.

No one claps. Phil doesn’t mind. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, a single sweat drop making its way down his forehead. But his grin is wide and he can’t stop smiling. PJ gives him a thumbs-up that he almost misses. His ears are buzzing and he thinks he hears another name being called in the background of it all.

Howell welcomes him back with wide eyes and a small ‘wow’ which is enough for Phil. He slips back into his sweats.

“I guess we do the same circus skill then,” Howell notes, “I’m Dan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I guess we do. I’m Phil.” He sticks out his hand and Dan shakes it.

“Nice to meet you, Phil.”

“Nice to meet you, Dan.”

They laugh for no reason at that.

The auditions continue with Dan and Phil exchanging small talk and notes about the other performers. There are a few clowns mixed in the auditions (Most notable one being a guy named “Chris Kendall” who Dan seems to know as he yells “You can do it, Chris!”) as well a Spanish web artist and a few jugglers scattered around. Maybe that’s what Phil loves so much about circus, the fact that it’s not just one thing. Circus is made up of many different things that are all mesmerizing, breathtaking really, if done right.

“Alright everyone, we will be announcing the new performers of the Liguori Circus in exactly two hours, so meet back here then.” Ms. Liguori announces once everyone has presented their acts. People start filing out of the main tent.

“Well, uh, see you in two hours, I guess,” Dan says with a small smile.

“Yeah, uh, bye!” Phil calls after him, waving awkwardly as Dan leaves the stands.

Phil almost face palms because wow, that display of awkward, uncoordinated hand waving was not only, one, ugly, but two, really fucking ugly and Phil needs to get his life together.

“Philly, I’ll see you in two hours! Go take a nap or something!” PJ calls as Phil’s on his way out.

“See ya, peej!” Phil calls back

“Oh, and one last thing,” PJ says dropping his voice to a whisper, “please, please, change out of that ugly ass thing you call a costume!”

“Stop hating on my fashion sense!” Is all PJ gets back.

And then Phil heads back the trailer, where he peels of the skin tight costume and changes into his signature pair of black skinny jeans and his red jumper. And then he just watches some crap TV.

Phil will never admit he’s into shows like “Hotter Than My Daughter” and “Dr. Phil” but he is. PJ’s not really into TV, he likes reading and writing more. Probably because he’s interested in actually running things and being organized. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Phil doesn’t really mind much, PJ’s a good friend and he likes playing stupid games like ‘Go Fish’ and ‘Candyland’ with him on late nights. But sometimes, Phil wishes that he had someone to cuddle into and watch crap TV shows all night with, like he and his grandfather did when he was younger. Of course, his parents thought that was a bad activity. So when grandpa died, Phil stopped having shitty TV marathons. Well, for the most part. Sometimes, when his head hurt too much, or he was too stressed out, or he was just missing grandpa too much, he was stay up all night watching all the old shows he used to watch with grandpa. It helped most of the time.

* * *

He’s completely out of breath by the time he gets the main tent. Phil might have accidentally fallen asleep and now be late for the meeting. Whoops. He never understood why he was so bad at running yet could do static trapeze for hours on end. The world may never know.

But either way, he enters the tents out breath and huffing. His lungs feel like they’re going to be heaved from his chest and he feels very hot overall. And not in the good way. Phil gets fixed with a couple weird glances, but for the most part, he’s able to awkwardly walk over to where Dan is standing without too much commotion.

He appears to be chatting with one of the clown dudes, Craig Kristina? Something like that.

“Dan,” Phil greets upon approach.

“Oh, hey,” Dan replies, sending Phil a small smile, moving so Phil can slide between him and the other guy.

Phil turns to the clown guy, “I’m Phil Lester.”

“Chris Kendall,” The clown guy says in response.

'Oh,' Phil muses, 'The clown guy.' 

They shake hands with a small grin.

“You’re the amazing static trapeze dude,” Chris says

“And you’re the amazing clown dude,” Phil says

Dan rolls his eyes, “Don’t encourage him, he’s sometimes a little too much of a clown.”

“Hey! I am the amazing clown dude all the time, you’re just jealous because even your funny bone reeks elegance.”

Dan shakes his head but smiles none the less.

“You reckon we’ll make it in?” Dan asks, suddenly looking a bit nervous.

Phil shrugs, “Knowing the Liguoris, they’ll want to take as many people as possible, so probably I guess. We at least have a pretty good chance.”

“Either of you actually been in a circus before?” Chris asks

“Nah”

“Nope, have you?”

“Yeah actually, went on one tour with them, but then they closed down due to lack of funding or something.” Chris says, looking kind of crestfallen, “Hopefully, if I do get it, that won’t happen with them.”

“They’re kind of loaded, so I doubt it.” Is the response from Phil with an added chuckle

Chris doesn’t look too reassured.

The curtains at the other side of the tent finally open and in walk the Liguoris.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to include last time that this story was beta'd by perplexy (from tumblr, thanks so much again!!) 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr as well! http://phanbruh.tumblr.com/

“Hello, everybody!” Mr. Liguori greets, “This was a very hard decision, but I think we have a great cast picked out, but, as you know, unfortunately we can’t take everyone, no matter how talented all of you are.  We have arranged the chosen cast into seven acts, we will have a flying trapeze one, which the auditions are being held for tomorrow. So, without further ado, we’ll start our list. If your name is called, please step forwards.”

Phil chews his lip nervously.

“Jordan Addams”

The dirty blond haired girl steps forward, relieved smile on her face.

“Melissa Cox”

Phil has no idea what she did.

“Paige Darlwery”

Phil glances at Dan, whose eyes are wide and scared, he’s shaking slightly. Phil doesn’t know why, but he reaches out and squeezes Dan’s hand. Dan squeezes back and they exchange a smile before releasing.

“Andrea Dwlight”

“Henry Fer”

Phil’s not even paying attention to whose stepping forwards anymore, his own head tilted downwards and eyes closed, he hopes for his name to be called.

“Dan Howell”

Phil peers up at Dan’s name. Dan lets out a large sigh and shakes his head he steps forward, wide grin spread across his face. He looks back, sending a glance back and Chris and Phil who are both trying to look happy for him, despite their nerves.

“Tina Jerry” Is called next, then followed by, “Chris Kendall”

Chris gives Phil a smile that Phil presumes is supposed to convey reassurance. It doesn't. 

Phil’s sweating hard now, his eyes focused forwards, he needs this. By all standards, he shouldn’t be too nervous, PJ’s his best friend, he’s bound to get it.

But that doesn’t stop Phil from almost cheering when, “Phil Lester” is the next name called.

He gladly steps forward to join Dan who gives him a high five and squeezes his shoulder. The view from forwards is different somehow. The knot that was building in Phil’s stomach has seemingly disappeared, but he feels bad for all the other people he can see now, the tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife and Phil has to take a few deep breaths to fully feel relieved.

“John Xthan” is the last name called and a shorter man with light blond hair steps forwards.

“Alright folks, that’s the cast for the Liguori Circus. Again, sorry we couldn’t take all of you. Maybe next year.” Are Mr. Liguori’s parting words

It takes a few minutes for the rejected performers to shuffle out of the main tent. Phil wishes he could comfort some of them, especially the crying ones.

“Alright then,” Mrs. Liguori stats once only the cast is left, “Now we’re going to sort you into acts. Our show order this year will go Clown Act first, to get the audience ready, followed by the Spanish web, tightrope, contortion and acrobatics, then our intermission, fabric will lead in, object manipulation, static trapeze, and then we’ll finish with flying trapeze. As you heard, you will know the flying trapeze cast tomorrow.”

Someone raises their hand, “Um, ma’am, no disrespect, but I was paying attention to the acts and respective people and we don’t have anyone that even auditioned on a tightrope, how is it that we have an act for it?”

“Oh, I forgot, my son, PJ, will be tightrope walking in our show, I assure you that he has trained very hard, but we felt it would be useless to have him audition as we have already seen his routine many times. Any other questions?”

“Ma’am, whose in each act?” Jordan Addams asks, “I’m sure that we all know our skills, but it’d be nice to know who were working with.”

“Oh! I completely forgot, we printed out the list for everyone, so here you go,” Mrs. Liguori says before she hands a stack of paper to Addams, asking her to pass one to everyone.

“So, once you get your paper, why don’t you try and find out your act mates. Reminder that you only have two weeks to come up with an act before we put on our first show!” Mr. Liguori says, “We have a few minutes now, so I suggest that you exchange information because we need you guys to clear out in a few minutes.”

Phil reads through his list.

 

_Clowns: Melissa Cox, Henry Fer, Chris Kendall, John Xthan_

_Spanish Web: Tina Jerry_

_Tightrope: PJ Liguori_

_Contortion and Acrobatics: Jordan Addams, Paige Darlwery_

_Intermission_

_Fabric: Andrea Dwlight_

_Object Manipulation: See above (same as clowns)_

_Static Trapeze: Dan Howell, Phil Lester_

_Flying Trapeze: To be determined_

 

Phil locks eyes with Dan only to find Dan already looking.

“I guess we’ll be working together on this one,” Dan says with a small laugh

“Yeah, guess so, probably was to be expected, considering we both only do static trapeze.” Phil responds

“So, information?” Dan holds out his phone

“Yeah, um, here,” Phil says, handing his phone to Dan as he takes Dan’s phone.

They quickly type their numbers in each other phones before handing them back.

“So, I’ll text you then?”  

“Yeah, or I’ll text you.”

The two exchange a grin before exiting the main tent.  

 

Phil makes his way back to his and PJ’s trailer, easy smile on his face. PJ comes in twenty minutes later.

“Hey, Peej, how was it?” Phil asks, not even glancing up from Halo

PJ sighs, dropping next to Phil on the couch, “Stressful, I was so scared, I wanted to get the best people but I wasn’t sure who those people were. But I’m happy with who we got, I think we have good performers. I just hope they can all work together.”  

“I’m sure you guys picked out the right people,” Phil reassures

PJ laughs as Phil get destroyed, “Mate, why do you even play that, you’ve got to know you’re absolute shit at it.”

Phil finally turns to his best friend, sticking out his tongue, “Hey! Don’t be rude, you’re shit at it too!”

“Not as shit as you,” PJ smirks, “Hey! Stop trying to shove me off the couch!”

“I would if you weren’t such a prick!” Phil says, continuing to push on PJ’s shoulders

“You can’t shove me off the couch, Phil.”

It’s a few minutes before Phil stops pushing at PJ’s shoulders.

“Given up then?” PJ asks, laughing

“Nah, just don’t have time for you anymore,” Phil grumbles

“Awwww, Philly, it’s okay,” PJ says, making kissy faces

“Get out of my life.” Phil says, laughing despite the fact he’s supposed to be ignoring the prick.

“Awwwww, is little Philly mad at me?”

“YES! Now get off me you big lump!” Phil says, shoving PJ aside, he stands, brushing himself off

PJ just laughs.

Phil gives him the finger and heads back to his room. He flops down on his bed and pulls out his phone, noting he has a text from Dan.

**Testing, testing, is this Phil’s phone**

_yah, hey dan_

**Hey! I was thinking that tomorrow we could meet up and get started on our routine. I’d like to get it done so we can practice it and make it perfect before our first show.**

_ok, we can do tht_

**Alright then, so tomorrow, do you want to come over to my flat? We can work there**.

_yah, ok_

**I’ll text you the address in the morning.**

_ok, cool_

Phil bite his lip, rummaging for something to say. He didn’t want to appear to have no conversation skills.

_u like video games?_

Phil cringed, he probably sounded like a massive dork loser, he instantly regretted asking Dan that. What if Dan got the impression that he was a massive dork loser? Phil groaned. His phone screen lit up, notifying him that he had a new message.

**Yeah, some, I’m more into Pokémon and Mario rather than horror games, though.**

Phil grinned, not regretting his message anymore.

_i love pokemon!_

_horror isn’t really my thing eaither_

_*either sorry_

**At the moment, I’ve been addicted to the Sims. I guess that’s how it goes, though? You’re obsessed with the Sims for, like, a week and then never play it again.**

_i’ve put off buying the new sims game for that reason_

_i’ve been trying to get better at halo but i’m shit_

**Oh! I love Halo, I could probably show you a few tricks if you’re truly shit.**

haha i am total shit

any games ur shit at?

**I’ve never actually played Mortal Combat, so I might be bad at that one. I’m not to shabby at Mario Cart, though.**

_mario cart_

_u sure u want to get into that conversation_

_rainbow road is hell_

**Rainbow Road…who ever came up with that track is a demon for sure.**

_don’t i know it_

_any other hobbies besides gaming?_

**You mean besides trapeze? Not really. I’m very boring.**

_really? u seem cool B)_

**Maybe, I secretly am B)**

_or maybe ur actually not B(_

**B( <\- Look you made me sad.**

_aww srry :’(_

**That’s okay, I still have my sunglasses B) #swag**

**Ew, no, I can’t believe I just typed that. I swear I was just trying to be ironic.**

_thts ok #theswaglife_

**Phil, no.**

_phil yes #theswaggilicouslife_

**smh**

**If we’re ever talking irl you better not use any hashtags.**

_but dan, all the swaggy people use #_

**No.**

_#yoloswaggymasterswaggilicous69_

_thts officially my new name_

**I am NEVER going to call you that.**

**Ever.**

_:(((((((((((((_

**Why does it have so many chins?**

_y not? #yolo_

**We can’t be friends anymore.**

_:(_

**:I**

_B)_

**>. >**

_:D_

**Sorry, I have to go, doctors appointment (ugh). See you tomorrow!**

Phil frowns slightly.

_bye!_

_don’t foret to send me ur address_

_*forget lol_

Dan doesn’t respond after that, so Phil figures he must already be occupied. He joins PJ, who has stayed in the living room (if it’s big enough to be called that). He greets Phil with a weary smile before going back to his laptop.

“Hey, whatcha up too?” Phil asks, plopping down on their sofa

“Trying to plan out my act.” PJ responds quickly, clearly wanting to be alone.

Phil smiles slightly, “I think I’m going to take a nap, wake me up for dinner.”

PJ nods in response and Phil heads back to his room.

* * *

To Phil’s surprise, he sleeps until eight the next morning.

“Urgg, uh,” Is Phil’s greeting to the world.

PJ just shakes him more, “Philly, you got, like, twelve hours of sleep last night, get the fuck up.”

“Ugh.” Phil complains, but opens his eyes anyway.

Suddenly, he jerks up, fully awake.

“Wait, I slept for about twelve hours?” He asks

PJ shrugs, “I think, might have been thirteen. Not sure, I tried to get you up for dinner but you weren’t having it, kept kicking around. Figured it’d be easier just to let you sleep. Less work on my part. But now, we have to get up, well, I do, practice and such, though you should probably try to meet with Dan.”

“Oh yeah, I have a routine to plan.”

PJ shakes his head, “What would you do without me?”

“Be swaggy”

“I just-no, Phil.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how cool I am.”

“You’re…you’re really fucking lame, Philip,” PJ says, shaking his head, “Now, c’mon, get up, you’ve been wanting to see my tightrope stuff for weeks and I think I finally have a show ready routine worked out.”

“Fine, give me a few minutes,” Phil replies

He takes his sweet time getting ready, slipping on his sweat pants and sweat shirt over his plaid tee because it’s starting to get just a little bit chilly outside. He goes about his morning routine, brushing hair, brushing teeth, contacts in, shoes on, and then he joins a very impatient PJ who just sighs and rolls his eyes by the time Phil is ready.

“So, have you texted Dan about today yet?” PJ asks, using his hand to shade his eyes from the sun that’s already bright in the sky.

“Nah, probably should. Wifi’s better in the main tent though, so I’ll do it then.” Phil says with a shrug.

They continue walking in a comfortable silence. Upon approach of the tent, PJ takes off his jacket and slips on his ballet shoes.

“I’ll yell at you when I’m on the platform,” PJ says with a quick nod before he’s off.

Phil doesn’t bother responding, instead heading into the stands and texting Dan.

_hey_

_can i get ur address so we can meet?_

Phil peers up at PJ, who is currently climbing to the platform. The platforms have always terrified Phil, who is not necessarily afraid of heights, just the fact that the platforms are ridiculously high. They’re located above the flying trapeze rig, continuation of the sturdy poles that hold up the flying trapeze. There are two platforms, both round and surround the pole. The only think linking them is the tightrope itself.

Phil’s phone buzzes and he glances down to see a reply from Dan.

**Hey, Phil! So, I’m still busy with stuff today but I’ll see when I can get back to my flat. If we do meet today, it’ll most likely have to be in the evening, if that’s alright. If not, we can just meet another time.**

Dan sends another text a minute later containing his address.

_thts fine. i’ll probs be available in the evening_

_just txt me when u want me to head over_

**Will do!**

“PHIL!!!” PJ screams, voice echoing across the main tent 

Phil glances up, giving his best friend a thumbs up.

PJ smiles back- or at least Phil thinks he does- before PJ seems to signal to whoever is in the sound booth to start playing something. Phil doesn’t think he’s ever hear the song before, but clearly, PJ has laid it all out perfectly.

He starts with just a normal cross across the tightrope, dipping his feet out as he walks, the large balancing staff held tightly in his palms. Just a normal cross makes Phil nervous, but he claps when PJ reaches the other platform. PJ seems more confident now, music slow and steady. He starts his backwards walk, stopping in the center of the tightrope to do a turn, starting to walk forwards, Phil whistles. PJ’s bends with the music well, he seems to not even notice anyone’s presence anymore. He makes his trips across juggling, unicycling, and biking, jumping even sometimes, swings and turns occasionally where they fit with the music. And Phil thinks this is what ever performer should look like, PJ looks so in love with his art, balancing with ease, even abandoning the balancing staff at some point. He just looks comfortable. Dan had the same kind of look in his eyes during his routine yesterday.

PJ finally finishes, smile illuminating his face as Phil claps and cheers. At least Phil assumes he’s smiling. He can’t really tell for sure because PJ is so high up.

A few unexpected cheers come for the south entrance of the main tent, Phil’s head snaps to the four people who have seemingly just appeared.

“THAT WAS WICKED!” One of the group members shouts at PJ

PJ makes his way down the pole, he seems to be blushing from what Phil can make out. Phil walks down from the stands, coming to meet PJ, who is making his way over the new people.

“Thanks,” Phil hears from Pj upon his approach of the group.

“Mate, no need for thanks, that was really, really cool,” From up close, Phil can now defiantly confirm the bright flush of PJ’s cheeks.

“So, um, who exactly are you?” Phil asks, “Not to be rude, just not used to seeing people in the main tent without there being a proper meeting.”

“Oh, right, sorry, we’re auditioning with flying trapeze, I guess we’re a bit early,” One of the guys says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly

PJ’s eyes go wide and he turns to Phil, “Phil! I completely forgot! I’m supposed to have my notes and clipboard! PHIL! We have to get back to the trailer!”

The group seems slightly confused.

“It was lovely to meet you!” PJ says before rushing off.

Phil chuckles, “Sorry, he’s the Liguori son, so he’ll be a judge of the auditions today, I should probably go. Don’t want his head to explode if he’s lost his clipboard.”

“Yeah, alright,” Is all Phil hears because he is rushing after PJ a second later, laughing at his friend’s antics.

Once back at the trailer, he finds PJ losing his mind.

“Phil! Where is my clipboard?” PJ asks frantically, throwing around the couch cushions.

“Hey, don’t dismantle our couch, it’s on your dresser.”

PJ pauses and smiles gratefully at Phil before slipping into his room. He comes back out a few seconds later, faithful clipboard in his arms.

“I should be going, don’t get in any trouble, okay? Shoot me a text if you’re going anywhere!” PJ rushes before he’s again out the door

“YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER!” Phil shouts after him, even though he knows that PJ’s gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Phil sighs, not really knowing what to do. He plays a bit of Mario Cart and Donkey Kong before browsing YouTube. Phil always thought that he could have been a YouTuber, well, in another life maybe, in this one; Phil was devoted to the circus. Not finding anything new from his subscriptions, he just lay on his bed.

Not much took place in the hours that followed. PJ returned to the trailer but immediately passed out on the couch. Phil sighed but covered him a blanket anyway. PJ had been working pretty hard for the past week. Phil figured he deserved to get some proper sleep.

At seven, Dan finally texted back.

**Hello again! You can head over any time now. I’ve finally arrived at home!**

Phil smiled at that notion. He jotted down a note for PJ if he woke up before slipping on his coat and shoes and heading out.

_heading now_

**Cool! See you soon.**

He made his way past the main tent and other few trailers that would have to be moved to make way for the audience’s cars in a couple weeks. The night was cool, sky dark, but Phil could still spot some stars, full moon illuminating the sky. He hailed a cab upon entering the city. Dan’s flat was surprisingly not too far away, Phil could actually probably walk the way if he wanted to (not that he actually wanted to). He paid the cabbie before awkwardly shuffling into the cramped building.  He walked up a few flights of stairs before reaching number fourteen, Dan’s.

Phil took a deep breath, hoping he got the address before knocking. Luckily, it was Dan’s smiling face that greeted him and not an old woman in a towel.

“Hey, glad you could make it!” Dan said, ushering Phil inside

Dan’s flat was pretty small, there was a couch and TV set up in the left corner, a small kitchen in the right. Two doors rested on the other side of flat, Phil assumed one of them probably led to Dan’s room and the other to the bathroom.

“Yeah, it’s not much,” Dan commented, laughing nervously, “But it’s home, I guess.”

Phil smiles politely, “I like it.”

They stand like that for a moment, a few inches apart, small smiles on their faces.

Dan breaks it, “Here, so, er, let’s talk routine. How do you want to plan this out?”

“Well,” Phil starts, sitting down at Dan’s small kitchen table, “Do you want two bars? It all really starts with that.”

“Hmmmmm, pros and cons?”

“One bar, lots of partner stuff, two bars would be easier on transition stuff though,” Phil shrugs, “Though I feel like it would be more impressive with one bar.”

“Hold on, let me grab some paper,” Dan says with a laugh

Dan comes back with paper and they chat for a while. It’s been decided to have one bar, they’re going for the more impressive look. It’s supposed to be a professional circus. They have something or other that looks like it could be part of a routine by nine and neither of them really wants to talk routine anymore.

So they fade into gaming, a subject that has decidedly become something they can talk about. Dan rambles on about how much he loved his first DS and then ended up dropping in a toilet like a “total dumbass, no really, Phil, stop laughing, you had to be there, I was just trying to take dump and my hand slipped…” Phil later tells him about totally beating his brothers ass at Mortal Combat and Dan confesses that he’s never actually played that game before.

And Phil feels really comfortable with Dan. Who ends up challenging him to a Mario Cart match, which turns into two matches, and ends up being five. It gets really hardcore when they get onto Rainbow Road.

“Dan, I’m not ready for this,” Phil whispers, wide smile stretched across his features.

“C’mon, Phil, we can totally do this.” Dan says, his shoulder’s hunched, face fixed on the screen in fierce concentration before he chooses the road

They’ve decided to both be on the red team instead of competing this round, figuring maybe they can actually do this if they’re not competing (Dan says he’ll whoop Phil’s ass either way, so maybe they really are still competing)

The countdown starts and Phil trains his eyes on the screen, smile dropped now. And then they’re off. Or, their characters are. In real life, they’re both just pressing the A button and praying. Rainbow Road is a bitch.

When it’s all over, many creative swears have been invented (“frick frack mothertrucking peanut butter buttfucker shit”), they have fallen off that stupid road so many times (“THE GAME IS RIGGED! I SWEAR I TURNED RIGHT!”), and Phil is victorious, coming it 6th place as compared to Dan, who comes in 8th (“I TOLD YOU IT WAS RIGGED, STOP LAUGHING AND CHEERING YOU ASSHAT! I SHOULD HAVE WON!”).

“You’re such a sore loser, Daniel,” Phil teases

“Yeah well you’re a…” Dan pauses, “…a freak.” He finishes lamely

“Really? After all those creative swears that ‘freak’ is the best you can come up with?” Phil says, laughing

Dan just crosses his arms and sticks out his tongue, “Yeah, well, I bet I could beat your sorry ass at Mortal Combat and I’ve never even played it before!”

Phil raises his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yeah” Dan says, sticking up his nose, “In fact I challenge you to it.”

“Alright then, tomorrow, at my place, you’re on.”

“Alright then”

* * *

Dan wins at Mortal Combat (“FUCK YES! I told you I would!!! Hahaha loser”).

* * *

That’s how they continue for the new couple weeks. They hang out primarily every day that they can, and with PJ practicing his own routine and organizing the show in general, they’re alone more often than not. The first week they figure out the routine on the paper.

_“You’re really, really graceful, Dan, it’s amazing to watch.”_

_“You’re really just sharp, I guess, Phil, like all your movements are more power than grace, music works really well with your routine.”_

_“I guess we compliment each other that way,”_

_And once they tire of routine talk or they simply are stumped on how to fill up their ten possible minutes, to make sure their routine can be perfect, they game._

_“You piece of shit, you can’t just do this to my life!”_

_“It’s your own fault, you told me how shit you were at Halo”_

_“I regret trusting you with that!”_

Their second week is spent on the bar. They figure themselves out, their routine, what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes it leads to awkwardly positioning, which has happened many times.

_“I am so sorry.”_

_“It’s okay, just how do I get out of this position?”_

_“I have no idea.”_

_“No offense, mate, but I really would like to get my face out of your, er, crotch area.”_

PJ meets Dan properly half way during the second week.

_“Ah, so you’re who has replaced me!”_

_“PJ!”_

_“Yeah, actually that’s me. I'm Dan, nice to meet you.”_

_“PJ, likewise”_

_“I feel like I shouldn’t have introduced you guys already. Can you just pretend not to know each other again?”_

_“No, Phil.”_

By the time that it’s two days till show time, they both feel very confident in their choice of music and routine. They present it to the Liguoris who are very pleased and tell them to rest before show time.

So they do.

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Then suddenly it’s the first show.

Dan and Phil are shoved into tight leotards and leggings. Black, like most of Dan’s clothing, which small splashes of blue  that Dan says reminds him of Phil’s eyes. Andrea Dwilight, the fabric trapeze artist, helps them with stage make-up, which they both find icky, but appreciate her efforts enough to attempt not to smudge it.

Even though the routine has been practiced and planned, Phil is still shaking as he peeks out of the curtains and looks at the stands. The main tent’s stands are full of people. It smells heavily of popcorn and Phil’s hands are shaking so badly he’d afraid they might just shake off. Illogical of course, but that doesn’t stop his fear.   
  
The clowns are gathered near the curtains, all of them talking. Most likely about their opening. They’re kind of responsible for setting the mood of the show.  Phil does not envy that responsibility.   
  
Phil backs away from the curtain, heading back towards Dan, who’s in his position for the opening parade that will welcome the audience. The parade order is in show order, so Dan and Phil are close to the end of the parade as their act is the second to last one to go on.   
  
“You nervous?” Phil asks   
  
Dan peeks up from his phone, “Kind of. You?”  
  
Phil tries to stop his trembling hands, “Yeah, kind of.”  
  
Dan smiles sympathetically, “Hey, we’re gonna kill it, okay?” Then he pulls Phil into a warm hug.   
  
“Thanks,” Phil murmurs in Dan’s ear before they pull away.   
  
Dan’s hands remain on his shoulders, smiling largely, “We’re gonna be okay, okay?”  
  
Phil take a deep breath, meeting Dan’s eyes he mumbles, “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright! Lights down! We’re on in three!” The stage manager yells.

Phil takes a deep breath, the house lights are turned off.

“Three!”

Dan takes Phil’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Two!”

Phil squeezes back.

“One!”

The line of performers moves forwards. Their hands break apart as they walk through the parted curtains.

Everything is too bright, the lights are shining all around the ring. Phil can’t truly see the audience, but he knows they’re there because of the thunderous applause they create. A few whistles echo around the tent and Phil’s on auto pilot. He slips on his show smile and waves. His costume feel too tight and he feel like he can’t breath. The make-up feel hot on his face and the audience eyes feel like they’re burning holes in his head as they watch him.

Then it’s over. He’s returning through the parted curtains and back into the backstage area. His body instantly relaxes, smile slipping off, waving hand dropping. Dan’s hands slowly find Phil’s shoulders,  gentle guides him forwards.

“You’re fine, okay? You did great!” Dan reassures into Phil’s ear as he guides them back to their small dressing room.

Phil settles into a chair when the reachs the room and Dan takes the chair opposite to him, resting his elbows on the table placed between them. They settle into comfortable positions. Laughter erupts from the main tent, the cause of it coming from one of the clowns stunts no doubt.

Phil pulls out his phone and Dan opens his book. They settle in each other’s silence with the occasional clapping and laughter from the audience and the sounds of pages turning. The comfort of each other’s presence wraps around the room like a blanket.

Phil looks up at Dan, noticing the jutted out jaw and curve of a smile on his face, an expression he only adapts as he’s absorbed into a book. He turns back to his phone. It’s like a bubble wraps around them, Dan and Phil are there own world when they’re together.  

Chris comes into their settled bubble as intermission starts, grin spread across his face and his cheeks flushed. He claps Dan on the back, making both of the men look up at him.

“Bro, it went so well! The audience loves us!” Chris exclaims, smile only growing wider.

Dan glances at Phil before smiling back up at Chris.

“That’s awesome! How did the clowns part go? There was that one section that you were worried about.” Dan replies easily

Chris goes on about his act, how it went amazingly and he was wrong to be skeptical about that one gag. Phil mostly tunes them out, catching small bits of conversation. He’s mostly occupied with a game called ‘Crossy Road’ on his phone.

Chris hangs around for a little while longer before he’s whisked away by the rest of the clowns to prepare for the objection manipulation act.

PJ appears a few minutes after Chris’s departure.

“How’d it go?” Phil asks, already knowing the answer due to PJ’s wide smile.

“Awesome! Phil they loved me!”

Phil grins, “Impossible not to, you’re amazing on the tightrope.”

“Yeah really,” Dan chimes in, “You’re kind of entrancing.”

PJ gives him a weird look, “Thanks, mate,” Then his smile returns, “I can’t wait for your guy’s act though,” He sighs, “You guys work so well together.”

Phil’s stomach seems to drop at the reminder that - oh yeah - Dan and him have an act that they have to do in front of a bunch of strangers.

“FIVE MINUTES TILL ACT TWO.” The stage manager calls.

PJ looks away and then back to Phil, “Mom and dad might need me, talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see you.” Phil says even though PJ’s already walking away.

Dan peeks up from his book, “So, we’re totally gonna kill it, right?”

Phil sighs shakily, “Yeah, gonna kill it.”

Dan sets his books down, sending Phil a concerned look, “You alright? You seem very nervous. Not that I’m not nervous or anything. But you seem more than nervous.”

“I’m just not really comfortable  performing for people before, I guess.” Except for my grandfather, He adds in his head.

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up, “What? Really? But what about the audition?”

“It’s easier when I get lost in the music or when someone I know is there, I guess. I dont have much experience performing.”

Dan smiles suddenly, “It makes sense that you’re nervous then. But you don’t have to worry, Phil. We know what we’re doing. And we know the back-up plans in case we fail, so we’ll be fine. Just get lost in the music like you do.”

Phil forces a smile back, his body still wracked with anxiety, “Okay.”

Then Dan goes back to his book.

Phil’s too nervous to focus on the addictive iPhone game ‘Crossy Road’. He peeks out of their room.

“ALRIGHT, FOLKS. Act two in three.” the stage manager informs.

Phil counts with her.

“Three.”

He looks over at Dan, who’s absorbed in his book.

“Two.”

He smiles at Andrea who is making her way to the curtains.

“One.” Is whispered

Andrea makes her way through the curtains and faces the incoming applause of the audience.

Her act takes up all of the ten minutes she’s allowed. There’s a monstrous uproar of applause, signalling she’s finished. She makes her way through the curtains, forehead sleek with sweat, smile set in her tight features. He gives her a thumbs up which she nods to.

Then the clowns stumble (quite literally) their way back on stage.

Dan gets up and I follow. Our act is next. We wait. We hear the laughter and applause from the audience. About five minutes in, Dan takes my hand and squeezes it.

“I’m nervous to perform because I know my parents don’t support me so they refuse to come to the show and I feel that I’ll never live up to their standards and so they’ll never talk to me again. I’m already pretty shut out of their lives and I just wish they would watch because I all I’ve ever wanted is their acceptance.” Dan mumbles, words rushing out all at once, like the water in a river rushes fast after rain.

Phil squeezes back, “I’m nervous to perform because my grandfather. Not that I don’t think he’d be proud, I’m sure he would be, but whenever I used to perform I would think I saw him and then when I realized it wasn’t I couldn’t take it and would break down during a routine. I’m worried I’ll do that tonight and fail you.”

They stand like that for the remainder of the objection manipulation act, hands held tight. Phil thinks that this must be one of those moments, the ones where you feel apart from the world, caught up in a world of your own. Their hands seem like an unspoken promise; I won’t fail you, that hangs between them.

Then the clowns thunder back through the curtains and the moment is broken. Their hands fall apart and back to their respective sides.

“Ready?” Dan asks

Phil takes a deep breath, “Ready.”

They exchange a smile before the curtains are opened and they’re on.

Dan leads them on, a show smile slipping on his face instantly, Phil’s smile follows a beat later.

They wave their way over to the static trapeze.

“And now, Dan and Phil!” Mr. Liguori announces, he stands in the center of the ring, tux on with a top hat, pointing over at them.  

They exchange one more glance.

The music starts. Phil repeats the beats in his head, keeping a smile on his lips he dives into the familiar melody. Then the bass kicks in and they’re off in a flurry of body parts.

Dan pikes up, arching and around he goes, using his grace to his advantage. Then Phil follows. They work around each other, twisting and turning with small drops and roll downs. Their torsos pressed together, hands gripped together like they might fall apart at any time. Phil steadies himself against Dan’s pulse as their wrists lock.

They end in double gazelle, backs arched, hands outstretched.

Dan dismounts first, swinging his legs up and over, landing on the right of the bar. Phil does the same, but lands on the left. They style, arms out, wide smiles on their faces.

Phil’s ears are buzzing, blocking out most of the sound of the applause. His entire body seems to be vibrating with energy. His smile is genuine this time.

Then they’re walking off and away from the large crowd and through the curtains. Chris and PJ are talking in whispers but give them large smiles when spotted. Phil wonders when they met each other (he doesn’t recall him or Dan ever introducing them).  

The flying trapeze crew (unfortunately not the people that had complimented PJ on tightrope the few weeks before) made their way through.

Phil bites his lip. We did it, He thinks, we actually did it.

They makes their way back to their dressing room.

“So, we did alright then,” Dan whispers

Phil smiles, “Yeah we did it.”

They smile at each other.

“I’m glad there were no major screw ups.” Dan whispers back

“Hey, Dan.”

“Yeah, Phil?”

“Why are we whispering?”

Dan’s eyebrows raise, as if he just realized that they were, then he shrugs before whispering, “It just seems like the thing to do.”

Then Phil hugs him, arms wrapping slowly around Dan, snaking their way across his back. He doesn’t want to admit Dan is the first person he’s hugged since his grandfather. Not even PJ and Phil had ever embraced, despite their bond.

Maybe it’s just the mood that going on, or the relief Phil feel that they did it, or that he hasn’t felt so comforted in a long time. Either way, Dan’s arms, that wrap around Phil a beat later, feel like home.

 


End file.
